


Have You Ever Wished For An Endless Night?

by octothorpetopus



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Dancing, Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. Has a Crush, Episode: s18e15 Know it All, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Episode: s18e15 Know It All, Sweet Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Undercover Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus
Summary: Going undercover is one of Sonny Carisi's favorite parts of the job, especially when it involves fancy parties, expensive suits, and an open bar. Plus, he enjoys the drama of a good high-profile arrest, and tonight is no different. Except that tonight, among all of the suits and drinks and criminal elite, a familiar face threatens to blow his cover.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	Have You Ever Wished For An Endless Night?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first barisi fic since January, but I like the way it turned out and I hope you do too! Any comments or feedback you have are read and appreciated, and I hope you’re all healthy and okay.

Sonny Carisi straightened his bow tie and frowned at his reflection. He was in the second floor bathroom of NYPD's 16th precinct, dressed to the nines. He gently slicked a lock of hair into place, and the frown turned into a smile. He looked good. That was good.

"Looking good, feeling good," he muttered to himself, and exited back into the squad room. Benson peered at him over the rim of her glasses.

"Nice suit, Carisi."

"Thanks, Lieutenant." Rollins came in holding a tray of coffee cups and gave a low whistle. Sonny rolled his eyes and ignored her. "So, are you bringing the van and sitting outside, or am I on my own for this one?" Benson shook her head.

"We'll be in the van, but you won't need backup. We're just there to listen in and make sure everything goes well." Sonny nodded.

"Are you sure all I've got to do is get Goldberg on tape? And that's all I need to arrest him?" Benson squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Carisi, we've got his DNA and all three of the clients are willing to testify. All we need is a confession that he assaulted them." Sonny took in a shaky breath.

"Okay. I'm ready."

The case: Henry Goldberg, a remarkably wealthy criminal defense attorney, sexually assaulted three clients. Sonny Carisi hated rapists, he hated billionaires, and most of all, he hated billionaire rapists. And tonight, he just happened to be throwing a gala for Manhattan’s finest legal professionals. So when Benson had suggested a sting to take him down, he had jumped at the idea to put on a tux and arrest his new least-favorite person.

”Wow,” he murmured into his earpiece as he entered the nicest hotel ballroom he had ever seen.

”Act natural, Carisi. You look like a fish out of water.”

”You can’t see me.” Rollins laughed, a tinny sound through the earpiece.

”Yeah, but I just know it.” She was right, of course, and Sonny knew it, so he tried to compose himself. His normal swagger blurred into an affected strut that matched the rest of the crowd, dressed like they belonged at the Oscars. Brilliant lights lit up the front of the St. Regis hotel, but Sonny tried his best to pay them no mind. After all, that wasn't what he came here for.

The ballroom inside the hotel was no less extravagant than the exterior. Crystal chandeliers dotted the ceiling, reflected across the white-gray marble that covered the floor. Well-dressed men and women drifted between tables draped in heavy white tablecloths, sipping champagne and congratulating themselves on having boatloads of money. Sonny’s wallet felt painfully light in his pocket. To him, it didn’t make any sense how people could make so much money and still be looking for more. He liked to think that if he had that much, after he paid off his many, many loans (law school, even at night, had not been cheap), and after buying his parents a new house and his sisters everything they needed but hadn’t been able to afford, he would probably just give it away. He didn’t know what he could do with that amount of money. And yet, the wealthy people surrounding him seemed to find plenty to do with it. 

“Excuse me-” Sonny jumped. He had been so caught up in himself that he hadn’t noticed someone come up behind him until they tapped him on the shoulder. It was someone he vaguely recognized- he had been questioned, but never brought in- someone from Kubrick, Goldberg, Marx, & Associates. “Landon Marx.” He held out a big hand, which Sonny shook with just the right amount of vigor.

“Dominick Smith.”

“I don’t think we’ve met before, Mr. Smith.” Sonny grinned with practiced ease and gave the response he had repeated a dozen times in his mirror last night to burn it into his brain.

“I met Frank Kubrick at an NACDL conference last year, and we’ve kept in touch.”

“Ah.” Marx seemed to accept that with little to no hesitation. Kubrick had been offered a deal in turn for flipping on his partner, so in the event that their relationship was ever called into question, Sonny wouldn’t be caught. “Can I get you a drink, Mr. Smith?”

“I’m alright, thank you. Actually, I’ve been looking for Hank Goldberg. Would you mind giving me an introduction?” Apparently, Sonny was a much more convincing liar than he thought he was, because Marx didn’t even hesitate.

“Absolutely. I think I saw him by the bar.” Sonny trailed behind Marx, scanning the room. He recognized two city councilors, four judges, and the deputy mayor. Goldberg had webs across the entire city. That didn’t bode well, but nobody here could keep Sonny from arresting him.

“There he is.” Sonny saw a face he knew well from staring at a photo of it for the last week from across the squad room. The face belonged to one Henry Goldberg, who was tossing back scotch and laughing. A tiny red flame burned in Sonny’s stomach, but he quieted it. He just needed to wait. To watch, listen, and wait. 

In fact, he was so focused on calming his rage that he didn’t bother to look and see who Goldberg was talking to. He probably should have, he realized later, because it would have saved him a lot of trouble, but the truth of the matter was that it probably wouldn’t, because even if he’d looked, he’d still have only had about ten more seconds to process that the person that Hank Goldberg was speaking to was one Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba, who had been suspended a week ago and Sonny hadn’t seen since. It was also probably a good thing that Sonny didn’t have a drink, because if he had, he probably would have spit it out. 

When Rafael saw him, his green eyes went wide momentarily, searching Sonny’s face. However, he was smart. Incredibly smart. It didn’t take him long to put two and two together- why would a cop be at a function for legal professionals? If he’d had to, Sonny probably could have covered it up with some bullshit about law school and Rafael would have been bored enough to take it because he just didn’t want to listen anymore. Lucky for both of them, it didn’t come to that. Rafael composed himself and smiled into his drink.

"Hank!" Marx completely ignored Rafael and tapped his friend on the shoulder. Henry Goldberg was thin, tall, with angular features and thick gray hair. If he were Italian, he could have been Sonny's uncle, maybe even his father. But Sonny wasn't focused on that. He was finding it rather difficult to be focused on anything other than Rafael. Still, he managed to pull his attention back to the real reason he was here.

”Dominick Smith.” He shook Goldberg’s hand- well, let Goldberg shake his hand.

”Hank Goldberg. It’s nice to meet you, Dominick.” He seemed to remember his previous conversation and he gestured behind him. “This is Rafael Barba.” Sonny forced a bolt of laughter down into his stomach and smiled pleasantly. He shook Rafael’s hand. Rafael was a much better actor than Sonny would have thought.

“It’s nice to meet you, Son-” His eyes went wide, and he coughed. “Dominick.” Or maybe not. He had fucked up, and he knew it. Luckily, Goldberg didn’t seem to notice.

“Can I get you a drink, Mr. Smith?” Sonny had opted out the first time, but sting operations always made him a little nervous, if he was honest, and with Rafael now thrown into the equation, he could use a little liquid confidence. If there was a little liquid luck in there too, all the better. 

“Yes, please. I’ll have a dirty martini, if you don’t mind.” Rafael raised an eyebrow behind his glass of scotch. It wasn’t Sonny’s usual order (beer- whatever was cheap enough to save his bank account but expensive enough to not poison him). 

A few moments later, Hank Goldberg handed Sonny a martini. It took all of Sonny’s self-control to not down the entire drink in one go. Instead, he took a reserved sip and smiled thinly. 

“I don’t know how it’s possible that we haven’t met before, Mr. Smith. I thought I knew all of the lawyers in New York.” Sonny managed a laugh, but it sounded like a cat being strangled. Rafael shot him a glance that seemed to say _get it together before you blow it,_ and Sonny composed himself.   
“Well, that would probably be because I’m not from New York.” As the words left his mouth, Sonny could hear his own accent, more pronounced than ever. “Well, I’m from New York originally. Born and raised in Staten Island, but I’ve been practicing in DC for the last fifteen years.” 

“I see.” Goldberg paused as Marx leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Sonny and Rafael shared a perplexed glance. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to speak in a bit, and I need a few minutes to prepare.” Sonny and Rafael waved him off, and at last, they were left alone. Sonny opened his mouth to speak, but Rafael silenced him with a hand, grabbing his arm and dragging him through an open door out onto the hotel balcony. It was a freezing February night, and the balcony was empty. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rafael hissed, wrapping his arms around himself to shield him from the cold.

“Me? What the hell are _you_ doing here?” Rafael rolled his eyes.

“Well, it’s a gala for legal professionals, and I don’t know if you remember, but I’m a goddamn assistant district attorney, and as I recall, you turned down that job, so I know exactly what I’m doing here, but I have a number of questions for you, Dominick Smith-” His eyes went wide with realization, and he looked as sheepish as Sonny has ever seen him.

“...you’re undercover, aren’t you?” Sonny nodded.

“You covered for me, why would you do that if you didn’t realize I was UC?” Rafael shrugged. “Marx introduced you as Dominick Smith, I figured you lied to get in here.” Sonny was utterly flabbergasted.

“Why?” Rafael shrugged again. It was infuriating how much shrugging he was doing.

“I don’t know, it’s your business.”

“It’s not my-” Sonny sighed, pinching the bridge of nose. “Whatever.” He leaned against the railing and looked out over the city, careful not to drop his martini, although it would have been interesting to see what would happen to the glass if it were dropped from ten stories up. “So,” he said finally, “you and Hank Goldberg seemed cozy.”

“Oh, come on. He’s an old friend.” Sonny groaned.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“What?” Rafael smiled, but the smile dropped away to reveal pure and unadulterated horror. “You’re not- I mean- your UC operation, it’s not-”

“We got some reports about Henry Goldberg and his interns.”

“And they’re credible?”

“We have DNA, Rafael.” Rafael tapped his toe against the stone tiles lining the balcony, as if impatient, but Sonny had known him long enough to recognize this motion. It was what he did when he was thinking something through, especially something that was difficult to understand. In this case, the idea that his old friend was a rapist. 

“How did I not- how come no one-”

“You know why, Rafael.” 

“Right, I forgot that one thing I did seven years ago in order to put a bad man behind bars means I can’t do my fucking job anymore-”

“Rafael, you’re suspended for two weeks. Stop being so dramatic.” Rafael paused at the railing and then he did something Sonny wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before- he laughed, loudly and clearly into the night. It wasn’t a chuckle or a giggle, it was a full, brilliant laugh, a little raspy, a little gravelly. Sonny quite liked it.

“I am being a little bit dramatic, aren’t I?” Sonny smiled widely and allowed himself a little bit of laughter too.

“Yeah, you are.”

“You’re going to arrest Hank tonight, aren’t you?” The smile dropped off Sonny’s face, and he felt ashamed, somehow. Not that he was arresting someone who had done a bad thing- he could never feel ashamed about that. But he felt ashamed that in doing so, he had hurt Rafael, even without meaning to, even if Rafael didn’t want to be hurt by it. Sometimes hurt was nobody’s fault, but saying that didn’t make the pain go away, and so sometimes it was just better to take blame upon himself so no one else would have to bear it.

“Yeah, I am.” He saw Rafael nod out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned to face him, to his surprise, Rafael was already looking at him. There was a funny sort of expression on his face, one Sonny didn’t think he’d ever seen before. It wasn’t angry or disappointed or upset like he’d expected. Instead, there was a sort of odd… fondness there, behind his eyes.

“Look, I don’t know… I don’t know if you’re right about Hank or not. I’ll be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me if you were. But I want you to know that I’ll back you. I’ll always back you.”

“Thanks, Rafael.” Sonny’s stomach fluttered. There hadn’t been this level of affection between them in a conversation hadn’t occurred since Mike Dodds’s funeral, and Sonny didn’t want to think about that. Still, he had never been one to handle his emotions in a “healthy” way (those were the exact words his childhood therapist used), so he did the only thing he knew how to do- he made a joke. “You’re so much nicer when you’re drunk.” Rafael only smiled and looked down into his glass.

“I’m not drunk. But thanks.” Sonny didn know quite what to make of that, but either luckily or unluckily for him, he didn have to. Before he could respond, there came a squeal of microphone feedback from the ballroom.

“We should head back in. I don’t want Henry to get suspicious because I disappeared.” Rafael looked up at him, that same puzzlingly gentle expression still on his face. He appeared to examine Sonny for a moment, for what Sonny never knew, and then nodded, knocking back the rest of his drink.

“You’re right. We can’t jeopardize your operation.” At the door, he paused, as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t. All he said was: “Have fun doing your job. I’m gonna go get shitfaced,” and he disappeared into the crowd. Sonny made a mental note to try to dissect that entire conversation later, but for now, he had a job to do. He turned his attention to the front of the ballroom, where, on a slightly raised platform, Henry Goldberg was beginning to address the gathered crowd. 

“Thank you, everyone, so much for coming tonight. Working in law has always been a bit of a tricky business, and that’s certainly true nowadays.” There was a ripple of laughter. “Still, it’s nice to know that prosecutors and defense attorneys and judges can still be in a room together without ripping each other’s throats out. That being said, I’m watching you guys.” More laughter. Even Sonny was finding it difficult not to laugh, which surprised him. Well, it didn’t really surprise him. Men like Hank Goldberg tended to be incredibly charismatic, which was how they got away with doing the things they did for as long as they had been doing them. “So please- enjoy a drink or several from our open bar- if you need a ride home, we’re happy to call you a cab, and if you decide to do your own thing, you have my business card.” More laughter, mixed with a few “ooh”s of amused horror. “Have fun mingling amongst yourselves, everyone.”

Sonny watched him with a careful eye as the crowd dispersed. From his spot on the very edge of the room, his eyes followed Goldberg to the opposite corner, where he conversed quietly with his partners. Marx looked relaxed and comfortable. That was good. Kubrick looked nervous. That was bad. Sonny began to make his way over to them, trying to hide his desperation. He hated flipping perps to take down others, even if the others were far worse, because they were so rarely decent actors, and half the time they bombed the operation because they were too damn nervous. But if he could just get over there, he could keep Kubrick under control just long enough to get the confession he needed. 

His comms had been relatively silent until now, and he almost jumped when he heard Benson’s voice in his ear.

“How’s it going in there, Carisi?” 

“I’m getting there,” he murmured, moving his mouth as little as possible to hide the fact that he was speaking to evidently no one. “But Barba’s here.”

“What?” She nearly shouted, and this time he did jump, just a little bit. “What the _hell_ is he doing here?”

“It’s a gala for New York legal professionals, Lieu. It’s honestly not that surprising. But he knows the deal, and he won’t out me.”  
“Good.” Through the earpiece, he heard her sigh and say something unintelligible. “Just get the confession and make the collar. Preferably as soon as possible. I’d like to get home before we have to get back in.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” he muttered, and muted the comm. “I hope I’m not interrupting, gentlemen.” Three heads shot up as he approached their small group, but Goldberg greeted him with a friendly smile. A good sign.

“Not at all.” Sonny slipped into their little triangle with a close-lipped grin. 

“So, Mr. Smith, do you work at a firm in DC or are you one of those political fellows?”

“God, no. I’m not a masochist. I’m in-house counsel for a tech company down there.”

“Is the product any good? I’m a big investor in those software companies, but I didn’t know of any in DC.” Sonny froze, coughed, and smiled.

“We’re not actually public yet, but I’ll let you know when we are.” Damn, either Goldberg was incredibly gullible or he just didn’t care enough to be suspicious. Probably the latter.

“Landon.” Kubrick tugged gently on his friend’s arm. “I think I see Judge Horowitz over there. Didn’t you say you had something to discuss with him?” He led Marx away, with one last nervous glance over his shoulder at Sonny.

“So, Mr. Goldberg-”

“Hank, please.”

“Alright, Hank. KGM is a big firm. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without Landon and Frank. And our one hundred and thirty two employees.”

“Wow. My legal department is about seven people total.”

“Nah, man, you have to keep growing. It’s good for everything- your workload, your bank account- hell, sometimes new employees can be good for your eyes, you know?” Sonny couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Goldberg was playing right into his hands.

“I hear you. We just hired a round of new interns and- whoo! That’s all I can say.”

“No kidding. These girls that work at KGM, they’re amazing. And they love me.”

“Really? In a firm that big, they know you well enough to love you?” Goldberg frowned, and Sonny jumped to fix his own mistake. “All I mean is how do you do it? I feel like even with my tiny department, I barely know my interns’ names.”

“It’s easy, man.” Goldberg threw an arm around Sonny, and Sonny knew immediately why he was being so miraculously forthcoming- Hank Goldeberg was hammered. Wasted. Positively shitfaced. “I give them what they want…” he shrugged and Sonny tried not to wince at the overwhelming stench of alcohol. “And they give me what I want.”

“Come on, KGM’s massive. It can’t be all of them.”

“Well…” Sonny held his breath. This was it. His miracle.

And then string music his ears from across the room, and Goldberg lurched away.

“Ah, good, the orchestra’s started.” He patted Sonny once on the shoulder and walked away.

“Shit,” Sonny muttered into his earpiece. “I was so close.”

“You got this, Carisi, just keep at him.”

“I-” Sonny had lost Goldberg in the crowd, but finally located him. Unfortunately, he was dancing with a defense attorney Sonny vaguely recognized. “Shit. He’s dancing right now, there’s no way I can get him to talk.” Benson sighed on the other end of the line.

“Fine. Just keep an eye on him, and the second he frees back up, you get a confession.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sonny leaned against the wall, perfectly content to continue drinking his martini and wait. Unfortunately, that was not what fate had planned for him. And unfortunately, fate’s name was Rafael Barba. 

“This is boring,” Rafael said, folding his arms in that characteristic “too-good-for-this-shit” posture Sonny had seen nearly every day for the last four years.

“Speak for yourself.” Still, he didn’t look like he was having much fun. And then he did something that surprised Sonny more than he thought Rafael was capable for surprising him. “Do you want to dance?” He asked, holding out a hand.

“What?”

“Did you suddenly go deaf?” Sonny rolled his eyes.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Okay, so…” Rafael shrugged, his hand still outstretched.

“I- fine.” He took Rafael’s hand and allowed Rafael to tug him into the dance floor that had been cleared out at the front end of the ballroom. The orchestra was playing a nice mid-tempo waltz, and Sonny found that Rafael led with surprising grace. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“My mother made me take dance classes in middle school.”

“Weird. But not off-brand for you.” Sonny had to admit, this was nice. He liked the feeling of Rafael’s arm around his waist, his hand weighted in Sonny’s own hand.

“You know, you’re not too bad either. For someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Aw, you’re welcome.” The song ended and for just a moment, Sonny and Rafael were frozen, still holding one another in their arms. Rafael let his arms drop to his side with a start, and he cleared his throat, turning vaguely pink. “You should, uh-“

“Yep. Right.” Sonny turned around before he could make any more of a fool of himself and once again searched the room for Goldberg, who had once again relocated to the bar. Good for Sonny. Bad for his liver.

“Ah, Mr. Smith.” Despite being at least five drinks in, and aside from the definitive smell, Hank Goldberg was as composed as ever.

“I was wondering if maybe we could continue our conversation from earlier. Maybe somewhere a little quieter. The balcony’s a nice place to sit and chat.” Goldberg didn’t really respond, but he allowed himself to be led out onto the balcony where Sonny and Rafael had leaned out over the New York night only a few minutes earlier.

“Have you and Rafael met before? You looked, uh, cozy.” Sonny laughed and tried his best not to sound nervous.

“No, not that I can remember. He just seems nice.”

“I think he’s- well, you know.” Goldberg winked and Sonny repressed a gag. 

“Anyway, you were telling me earlier- your interns. How do you do it?” He tried his hardest to sound amazed rather than disgusted.

“It’s easy, Dominick- may I call you Dominick?” Goldberg didn’t wait for Sonny to respond. “Mostly, they give me what I want, ‘cause they know I’ll give them what they want. Promotions, pay raises, second chair on the best cases.”

“And if they don’t?” Goldberg chuckled and for the first time, Sonny saw a glimpse of something dark in his eyes.

“Then I take it.”

“But, I mean…” Sonny conjured a “dumb blond” expression he had perfected in high school after he’d been caught in the bathroom with a still-smoking cigarette in the toilet bowl (smoking was a habit he’d long since given up). “They’re interns. You’re one of the most powerful criminal attorneys in the city. What could they possibly have that you want?” Goldberg scanned him with deeply analytical eyes. Sonny willed him to be convinced, to just say what Sonny needed him to say so that he could go home.

“Come on, what’s the one thing young, pretty interns have to give?” Sonny just stared, wide-eyed and confused. “Oh, right, I forgot you’re-” Goldberg waved a hand and Sonny pretended to laugh it off. If he couldn’t get Goldberg to confess, he might just have to punch him in the face. Just for fun. “Sex, Dominick. Sweet, glorious sex.” 

“Ah.” Sonny blinked, as if it had just dawned on him. “So they give you sex, and you give them whatever they want. And if they won’t do it…”

“They don’t have a choice,” Goldberg finished with a sickeningly sweet smile. Sonny nodded, leaning on the railing with one hand, the other hand steadily creeping to the small of his back where his cuffs were dangling underneath his jacket.

“Right. Obviously. Well, I guess all I can say to that is-” In a flash, he whipped out the cuffs with one hand and pulled his badge out of his jacket with the other. “Henry Goldberg, you’re under arrest.” Goldberg froze. “Can you, uh, put your hands behind your back? Please?” Goldberg stammered, until he finally managed to say: “I- what?”

“Mr. Goldberg, I’m Detective Sonny Carisi with the NYPD. You’re under arrest for rape. Now, would you please put your hands behind your back so I can cuff you? Thanks.” Sonny spared a quick glance toward the doorway. No one had really noticed yet, except Rafael, who hadn’t moved. He leaned against the doorway, watching.

“Rafael, please, help me out here, man,” Goldberg pleaded. Rafael took a long, slow sip of his scotch, and shook his head.

“No, Hank.”

“Come on, you know I’m-”

“I don’t know anything, Hank. Except that I trust Detective Carisi a hell of a lot more than I trust you.” He met Sonny’s eyes and smiled imperceptibly. Sonny, holding onto Goldberg’s cuffed wrists, used his free hand to unmute his earpiece.

“Goldberg is cuffed and ready, would you guys mind pulling around the car?”

“You got it.” Several stories below, Sonny heard the purr of an engine. 

“Come on, Hank.” With a gentle shove, Sonny and Goldberg moved back into the ballroom. This time they caught some attention. “People, if you don’t move back, I will arrest you all for interference in a police investigation!” As the elevator doors closed, Sonny saw Rafael one last time, still leaning against the door, his back to the ballroom, staring out at the indigo evening sky.

Benson and Rollins were waiting outside when Sonny and Goldberg arrived.

“I got him,” Rollins said, and took his place behind Goldberg. Sonny stretched, grinned, and winked at Goldberg.

“This is entrapment. Your case is nothing. I’ll-”

“You’ll do nothing, Hank, except get in the damn car and take responsibility for you actions,” Rafael said, strolling gracefully out the front door of the hotel. “I know you know a good lawyer.” He turned away from Goldberg and came to stand next to Sonny.

“Well.” Sonny looked down at Rafael, who was already looking up at him. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then promptly burst out laughing.

“What an interesting evening. And I thought events like these were always boring.”

“Good interesting or bad interesting?” Rafael appeared to regard Sonny for a moment with that sort of enigmatic Mona Lisa smile.

“You’re going to put a bad man away, detective. I’d say that’s about as good as it gets.”

“Carisi!” Sonny whirled around to see Rollins gently shove Hank Goldberg into the back of her squad car. “I’ve gotta drop this guy in a holding cell and do some paperwork. I don’t suppose you want to help? ” Sonny laughed and shook his head.

“I did the legwork, I think you can handle the rest.” Rollins groaned.

“Do you want a ride home?”

“My apartment’s not too far. I’ll walk.” She nodded and slid into the front seat of the car, which Sonny and Rafael watched pull out of the hotel’s driveway and into the night. Sonny groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

“What?”

“I lied. I live on Grand Street.” Rafael’s jaw dropped.

“That’s in Little Italy. We’re on the Upper East Side, Carisi.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s _seven miles.”_

“Yup.”

“Alright, I’m getting you an Uber-“ Rafael moved to reach for his phone, but Sonny held up a hand to stop him.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’ll walk.”

“Why? It’s freezing.”

“I’m not that cold. And I like walking,” Sonny protested.

“Christ.” Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, then. I’m coming with you.”

“Rafael, it’s over a hundred blocks. You live in Hell’s Kitchen. I can’t ask you to-“

“I’m not letting you walk that far home by yourself this late.”

“Rafael.” Sonny couldn’t help but smile. “I’m a six-foot-one white cop. I’ll be fine.”

“Sonny, we work in sex crimes. There’s literally a zero percent chance I’m letting you do this..” Sonny bit back a smile but nodded.

“Alright, fine. What’s your plan for getting yourself home? I’m not about to let you walk home if you won’t let me.” Rafael nudged Sonny with his elbow.

“I’ll call an Uber from your place. Come on.” He started off down the sidewalk, leaving Sonny behind. “What are you waiting for?”

“You’re going the wrong way, Rafael.”

“Oh.” He jogged lightly back to Sonny’s side and they set off together in the other direction.

They walked in comfortable silence, side by side, along the dark city streets. Every so often, they would pass under a street lamp and for that brief moment, Rafael was awash in a golden glow that made him seem almost angelic. Once, Sonny could’ve sworn he’d seen a halo over his head. But when they passed out of the light, the halo was gone, and Rafael began to shiver. He wasn’t wearing any kind of jacket over his tux- he hadn’t expected to walk, of course he hadn’t- and it was cold, even for February.

“Here.” Sonny paused and slipped his wool black coat off. He held it out to Rafael. 

“No, it’s freezing-“

“Look, I told you, I’m not that cold. Just take the damn jacket.” Rafael frowned, but allowed Sonny to drape the jacket around his shoulders. It was too long for him, and he was drowning in it. Sonny bit back the urge to laugh. He had never seen Rafael look anything less than perfectly polished before. But now, his hair had been blown about by the wind and Sonny’s jacket was far too big for him. Sonny liked him like this. He looked so much more… real. 

He was actually freezing now, but refused to shiver. He didn’t want Rafael to have any reason to give the jacket back.

“So, what have you been doing?”

“Oh, you mean since I got suspended?” Rafael cleared his throat. “Sorry if that sounded bitter. It’s just that I am.”

“You’re right, I’m- shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I… I don’t know what to do. It’s weird. I wake up in the morning and usually I would go down to the Starbucks on the corner and then take the subway to work. But now, I wake up and I go downstairs and I get my coffee, and I just… wander. I’ve seen parts of the city I never knew existed until now. It’s insane. I went to a taxidermy museum in Queens two days ago.” Sonny snorted. “It’s funny, but it makes you think.”

“Think what?”

“That you can spend your whole life in a city and only see about a hundred square blocks.” 

“You know, I didn’t even leave New York for school.”

“Trust me, Sonny, I’m fully aware.” Sonny grimaced, but it was more of a grin.

“Anyway, all I’m saying is that we’re in the same boat.”

“God, that’s depressing.”

“Well, you’re a ray of sunshine.”

“No, I’m not. I’d just like to be in the sun, for once.” Sonny got the sneaking feeling that Rafael wasn’t being quite as literal as he often was. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve felt the sun on my face, Sonny.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll ask the DA to extend my suspension and take a trip. Cabo. San Diego. Hell, I’ve always wanted to see Cuba.”

“I hear Havana’s quite nice in March. Care to take me with you?”

“I think we can manage that.” Their eyes met, and Sonny prayed that it was dark enough that Rafael couldn’t see the deep scarlet flush spreading from the tips of his ears across his nose and cheeks.

“We should pick up the pace of you want to get home before two.” He pretended to check his watch.

“In that case…” Rafael patted Sonny’s arm and took a deep breath, before taking off down the sidewalk. “Race you to the next corner!” He called over his shoulder, Sonny’s jacket trailing behind him like a cape. Sonny laughed and took off running behind him, his long strides allowing him to pass Rafael in a matter of seconds. He had never seen Rafael like this before, bounding down the sidewalk like nothing in the world mattered at all. “Oh, come on, that’s not fair! You’re six inches taller than me!”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

They slowed back to a walk, still laughing breathlessly, still side-by-side. A light snow had begun to drift down on them, swirling around them like white confetti.

“I hate winter on Staten Island, but winter in Manhattan… I don’t know what it is.”

“I know what you mean. When I was at Harvard, I thought I would never like winter again because Boston winters are so utterly brutal. But when I got back to New York, I had no idea what the hell I was thinking.”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing we’ve never lived anywhere else, then.”

“Yeah.” Rafael stopped, looking up at the sky, and appeared to consider briefly. “And besides,” he said, his words coming out stilted, hesitant, like he was taking great care with his wording. “If we left New York, we never would have ended up working at SVU.” His sentence cut off there. It sounded unfinished, and for a moment, Sonny couldn’t figure out why. Then it dawned on him- there was a word that hadn’t been said, that had simply been left hanging in the air between them: _together. We never would have ended up working at SVU together._ Sonny’s breath caught in his throat, and suddenly the cold that had been flooding his veins for the last twenty minutes or so melted away until the only trace was in his freezing fingertips. He mirrored Rafael’s gaze and stared straight up. The sky was the same cloudy dark gray it always was, lit up by the odd passenger jet or satellite. And yet, under the mile-thick layer of smog, among all the brilliant light pollution of the city, Sonny Carisi could have sworn he saw stars.

Grand Street was dark and nearly empty at this time of night. There were street lamps here and there, but most of the light came from the all-night bodega on the corner. Snow had begun to gather on the sidewalk. Sonny kicked it up in bursts with every step, watching it as it whirled around their ankles, glittering in the light from the bodega. Sonny briefly considered “forgetting” to mention when they passed his apartment, but it was cold, and he didn’t want to keep Rafael out any longer than he already had. So he came to a dead stop on the sidewalk, allowing the snow to settle, his face dark, backlit by the light from his apartment building. 

“This is you?” Rafael asked, looking up at the six-story brick walk-up.

“This is me.”

Sonny swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tried to come up with something to say. He and Rafael had never had a single moment like this, and if he let this one slip between his fingers, they never would again. “Do you want to come upstairs? I have a six-pack eating a hole in my fridge.” Rafael chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That… actually sounds really good. But I have to be in the office early to discuss the terms of my suspension tomorrow. And I still have to feed my cat.”

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your cat’s name?”

“Thurgood.” Sonny paused.

“You named your cat after Thurgood Marshall?”

“Why not?” Sonny grinned and laughed, the sound of his voice bouncing down the empty street like an echo into a canyon. “What?”

“Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, I realize I don’t.” Rafael beamed. It almost seemed like he gave off a soft glow, and the snow resting on his hair and catching in his eyelashes made him look more angelic than ever.

“That’s my charm, Carisi.” Rafael shrugged, and Sonny’s jacket fell from around his shoulders into his arms. He held it out, but Sonny shook his head.

“Keep it. Give it back to me whenever you see me next.”

“That might not be for awhile if tomorrow morning doesn’t go well.” Sonny shrugged.

“Oh well. I have other jackets.” Rafael looked up at Sonny, puzzled.

“You’re a lot more complicated than people give you credit for.”

“...thank you?” Rafael shook his head and smirked. 

“I’ll see you… sometime.” He spun on his heel and began to walk off. There was an odd sort of afterglow left in the air behind him, one that made Sonny forget it was the middle of February, one that made Sonny feel as if he would never need a jacket again if he could just keep seeing his draped around Rafael’s shoulders.

Sonny wasn’t entirely aware of his own movement until he was sprinting at full speed down the snowy sidewalk. It was a miracle that he didn’t slip and fall flat on his face, but he didn’t, and he caught up to Rafael only halfway to the next corner.

“Carisi, what are you-” Sonny didn’t give him a chance to finish before taking Rafael by the collar (the collar of his own jacket) and tugging upwards just enough that their lips met. Rafael didn’t freeze, even for a second. He wasted no time in throwing his arms around Sonny’s neck. They stood there, intertwined, for what seemed like hours, until Sonny finally let go, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Rafael had flushed a deep red, although whether it was from the cold or just simply that he was as breathless as Sonny was unclear.

“I’d offer to walk you home,” Sonny said, still holding Rafael by the collar, “but I think maybe we’d just get caught in an endless loop.”

“Yeah. Probably for the best.” And then Rafael smiled, as widely as Sonny had ever seen. He paused, his wide green eyes scanning Sonny’s face, and then he backed away, leaving Sonny grasping empty air. As he walked down the sidewalk, kicking up piles of snow, it looked to Sonny as if he were fighting the urge to skip. Sonny chuckled into thin air, ran a hand through his hair, and walked up the stairs and into the building.

Morning flooded Sonny’s room, and he leapt out of bed, staring out the window at the street below. The snow must have fallen even heavier after he had gone inside, because it had gathered in thick, fluffy piles along the side of the street. He fell back into his bed, smiling broadly, and clutched at the bedside table for his phone. Punching in the number came as easily as breathing this morning, and there were hardly two and a half rings before the familiar _click_ on the other line.

“Good morning,” he said without waiting for a “hello”.

“Morning, yes. Good, we’ll have to see.” Rafael sounded as nervous as Sonny had ever heard him.

“So you haven’t gone to your meeting yet?”

“No, I’m on my way in now.”

“In that case, good luck.” Rafael laughed, a tinny but warm sound.

“I don’t need luck. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“Right. I forgot the great Rafael Barba doesn’t need anything or anyone.” Rafael scoffed, which made Sonny laugh.

“I might not need your luck… but it’s still nice to have.”

“You always have it, whenever you need it. I’ve got it in heaps.”

“Look, I just got to the office…” he sighed reluctantly. “I’ll text you and let you know how it goes.”

“Oh. Okay. And Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna kill it.” Rafael was still mid-chuckle when he hung up. Sonny let the phone fall onto the bed next to him, and he smiled up at the ceiling. Because just like that, he had an idea, a damn good one if he said so himself. But first, he had to get out of bed. And also maybe put on a shirt.

It was probably a good thing that Sonny had thought far enough ahead to get an extra coffee on his way. He had been waiting for over an hour, and he was almost done with his second, about to start in on Rafael’s, when Rafael finally appeared through the glass front doors of 1 Hogan Place. His face lit up when he saw Sonny, and lit up even more when he saw the tray of Starbucks cups in Sonny’s hand.

“You’re a god. A six-foot Italian god.”

“Six foot one,” Sonny corrected, and handed Rafael the one full cup. Rafael must have downed about half of it when he finally stopped to ask:

“Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Well, last night you helped me realize that I’ve lived in the city my whole life and I’ve barely seen it. So I thought I would bring you coffee and we could go out and explore.”

“Don’t you have work?”

“I promised Benson and Rollins I would babysit for them whenever they need for the next six months, so please say yes, ‘cause I have to do it either way.” Rafael nodded, and Sonny noticed he was still wearing his coat.

“Okay. Sounds like fun.”

“Nice! So, start at the taxidermy museum in Queens?” he asked as they started down the busy sidewalk.

“God no, that place was terrifying. I’ve never ridden the Staten Island ferry before, though.”

“Nice try. I’m not going to Staten Island. It was bad enough that I had to grow up there. Why don’t we start with a walk on the High Line and figure it out from there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Rafael kept his eyes fixed in front of him, but his hand edged little by little out of the sleeve of Sonny’s coat until his knuckles brushed against Sonny’s. Sonny, personally, had enough of that slow-burn bullshit for a lifetime. He took Rafael’s hand firmly in his.

“Come on, man. Commit.” Rafael bit back a smile and rolled his eyes.

“God, is this what it’s going to be like all day with you? Because I’ll-” He turned as if to walk back the way they had come, but Sonny stopped him midway with a kiss. This time, Rafael did freeze, but only for a split second. 

“Because you’ll what?” Sonny asked, still gripping Rafael’s hand.

“You know what? Never mind.” Rafael leaned into Sonny just a bit as they kept walking. “It’s going to be a good day,” he said, like he had just had a moment of total clarity.

“You think so?”

“Please.” Rafael squeezed Sonny’s hand and laughed.. “I don’t think. I know,” he said with a wink, and he pulled Sonny down the street, both of them basking in the glow from the steadily rising sun.

It was going to be a good day.


End file.
